


Normal Interruptus

by searchingwardrobes



Series: Journeying the Realms [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family, Future Fic, Humor, land without magic meets magic, once upon a time/gilmore girls crossover, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:18:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: Killian and Emma have moved their family to the Land Without Magic to provide their four brilliant children with a better education. Elsa Jones, their oldest daughter, isn't happy about the move, especially when she ends up being tortured by the snobbiest kids imaginable at her new private school. She's paired with three girls she detests for a school project on the same weekend the Jones family is hosting a huge family reunion. What happens when Elsa's classmates collide with her family full of fairy tale characters? Especially when a villain crashes the party?Part of my series Journeying the Realms about the Jones family and their travels. This one is a bit different, inspired by the Gilmore Girls episode "Concert Interruptus." Set in the universe of The Last Battle, but can be read alone.





	1. The Land Without Magic

**Author's Note:**

> * I have been wanting to do this little crossover for ages! I hope you enjoy it!  
> * This one is two chapters because it just started getting really long.  
> * We're building up to the finale of Elsa Jones's story. I have loved writing her! After this, there will be one more story in this series.  
> * No need to be familiar with Gilmore Girls to enjoy this. I just wondered what it would be like for young people outside of Storybrooke to meet Elsa and her family.  
> * This is really just a big intro. The second chapter is where the fun will really happen!

              Most teenagers raised in an incredibly small town (and by incredibly small, meaning half the town is related) would be thrilled beyond belief to leave it. Elsa Jones, however, was not most teenagers. She never asked to leave Storybrooke, and now that she was driving – no, being dragged – away from it, her heart was cracking in two. She was practically sitting on the edge of the open window of her mother’s yellow bug, watching the “Welcome to Storybrooke” sign get smaller and smaller. Her mother reached over and yanked on her leg.

              “Either get in the car, Elsa Elizabeth Jones, or I’ll magic your butt back in your seat,” Emma Swan Jones commanded her daughter in tones that were half teasing, half frustrated.

              Elsa plopped down into the passenger seat with a loud sigh and an eye roll.

              “Spare me the melodrama, please,” her mother sighed in return. “You brood as well as your father, and I’m not putting up with it through three states.”

              Elsa flashed her mother an exaggerated fake smile and glanced towards the back seat where her nine year old little sister Leia was engrossed in her iPad. She was probably hacking into the Pentagon.

              “Why did we have to divide up boy/girl?” Elsa whined. She knew she sounded immature, but at the moment, she didn’t care. “I love sailing the Jolly, too.”

              Her mother must have decided to try positive reinforcement, because instead of an eye roll or a glare followed by a stern warning, Emma smiled at both of her daughters as she donned her sunglasses. “Because I wanted some girl time.”

              Emma glanced in the rear view mirror at Leia, and the girl actually emerged from her virtual world to return it. “Yeah,” Leia said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with one finger, “we should get milkshakes with lunch.”

              Emma beamed back at her younger daughter, “Done.”

              Leia was the spitting image of her mother, except for her bright blue eyes, which were her father’s. Her twin brother Charlie, however, was the opposite. Killian Jones all the way except for his glassy green eyes. Elsa tapped her chin as she looked from her mother to her sister and back again. The only thing Elsa got from her mother was her dimpled chin; everything else was her father’s, including his slightly elf-shaped ears. She was proud to take after her father, except for those embarrassing ears which she was constantly trying to hide behind her thick, dark hair. Charlie had lucked out; he didn’t have his dad’s ears. Then there was Liam, Elsa’s twelve year old brother, who looked like their grandfather, Prince Charming. Acted like him, too, truth be told. Liam was just so _good_ that it was an irritation to his siblings.

              In the back seat, Leia pulled her knees up to her chest and balanced her iPad against her thighs. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail as it usually was, and she chewed on her bottom lip as she concentrated on whatever it is she was working on.

              “What are you doing anyway?” Elsa asked, unable to keep the irritation out of her voice, “You better not be hacking into something again.”

              “For your information, I’m creating a virtual world,” her little sister responded and then stuck out her tongue. “What I’m creating could revolutionize gaming. I could be a millionaire by the time I’m in high school.”

              “And don’t give Leia a hard time about the hacking,” their mother scolded Elsa mildly, “if not for her your father wouldn’t have been able to get this job. She got him a birth certificate, citizenship papers, the whole nine yards. If not for her, you father wouldn’t exist. According to the government, anyway.”

              “Oh, and I’m supposed to thank her for that?” Elsa muttered, drawing her own knees to her chest.

              Emma sighed again and removed her sunglasses to look at her oldest child, “We’ve been over this, Elsa. Your father and I want you kids to have the best chance at a good future. You can’t get that in Storybrooke.”

              “I could,” Elsa grumbled under her breath, turning to look out the window and essentially breaking off the conversation.

              “Mom’s told you a thousand times, Elsa,” Leia spoke up, “The Land Without Magic is a misnomer. You’ll still have your magic.”

              Elsa gave her sister a withering glare as she snapped her fingers to produce a fire ball. She then snapped them again to produce a ball of light, then finally a ball of ice. “Yeah, got it.”

              “But,” her mother said cautiously, “we gotta be careful about that, kid. You know what –“

              “Mom,” Elsa cut her off, “I know. I have to be careful using my magic in a world that doesn’t believe.”

              “So basically, you were listening, you heard all of our reasons, but you just don’t care.”

              “Bingo.”

              Emma shot Elsa a warning look, then shoved her sunglasses back on and flipped on the radio. “Let’s listen to music, how about that?”

                            ***********************************************************

              Elsa frowned at her reflection in the full length mirror affixed to her bathroom door. She pulled on the blue plaid skirt, then shook her head and readjusted the waist band. It was the blouse, that’s what was wrong. It made her proportions look all wrong tucked in. But according to the very strict dress code at Chilton Preparatory Academy, the blouse _had_ to be tucked in. Elsa then ran her hands through her thick black hair, scowling at her reflection. It always seemed to be a mess, just like her father’s. She thought about putting it up in a ponytail, but decided against it. Let the kids at Chilton get to know her before she showed off her pointy elf ears.

              In the past, Elsa had always been excited about the first day of school. She may not be a genius like her siblings, but she was still pretty damn smart. She had even skipped kindergarten, which was why she was starting her senior year as a sixteen year old. Yes, starting a brand new school her senior year. Thanks a lot, mom and dad. No wonder she was nervous for the first time in her life on the first day of school.

              She was also nervous because Chilton was a pretty intense, prestigious school that was difficult to get into. She had a pretty good feeling they had only taken her because of her siblings. Her parents had been set on all of them attending the same school just like in Storybrooke.

              All of the Jones children were precocious from birth, stubbornly independent, and extremely intelligent. Whether that was from genetics, life experiences (not many kids are born during a battle, fight witches at age five, or master sword fighting by age ten), or the influence of magic no one could be sure. Nonetheless, Elsa felt as if she got all of the magic while her siblings got everything else. Liam was a mathematics whiz, able to navigate the stars as well as his father by age eight and doing calculus by age ten. Charlie was a musical genius who could play piano concertos by Bach as a four year old. At nine, he now played four instruments and could write his own music. He could also sing pretty well, although their father said not to put too much stock into that until he got older and his voice changed. And then there was Leia, a computer genius who would probably either be filthy rich or recruited by the CIA before she even got out of high school. And while Elsa was smart (she read the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy at the age of eight, after all), most of her skill sets were more useful in the Enchanted Forest than in the Land Without Magic. Or at least in Storybrooke. In this “normal” college town, who cared that she could shoot a bow and arrow as well as Snow White, swordfight as well as Prince Charming, sail a pirate ship as well as Captain Hook, or wield magic as well as Emma Swan? In short – nobody. Nobody would care. That was exactly what she was here – a big, fat nobody. In Storybrooke, she was the girl who defeated the darkness at the age of five. Here, in Orchard Hills Connecticut, she was nothing.

              She bit her lip at her reflection, because – damn it! – she was NOT going to cry! Then she took a deep breath, grabbed her book bag, and headed downstairs. At the foot of the steps, she couldn’t help smiling at the sight that met her eyes. Her siblings were setting the table while her father spun her mother around the kitchen. He sang the words to her, his eyes never leaving hers:

_Every little thing she does is magic_

_Everything she do just turns me on_

_Even though my life before was tragic_

_Still my love for her goes on_

              For Elsa’s entire life, her father made breakfast every morning (for some reason, they had pancakes a _lot_ ), and he always did it to music. This song by The Police was one of his favorites, and it was easy to understand why. As Elsa’s feet left the bottom step, her father dipped her mother and kissed her soundly. When they were little, she and her siblings would yell “ewww” and cover their eyes. Now they all just glanced away with a slight shake of their heads. They were sort of used to it by now.

              “Chocolate chip pancakes,” Elsa said as she approached the table.

              “Of course!” her father said, removing the kitchen towel from his shoulder and tossing it on the kitchen counter, “We always have those on special occasions, especially the first day of school.”

              “Nice of you to help us set the table, sis,” Liam quipped in that slightly self-righteous way of his.

              “Give your sister a break,” Emma scolded, “it’s her first day of her senior year. She wants to look nice.”

              “How much time could that take?” Charlie asked as he set out glasses of orange juice. “We all have to wear uniforms.”

              “I was thinking it shouldn’t take much time because she’s a natural beauty,” Killian Jones said gently, bending to brush a kiss across Elsa’s cheek. He winked at her and smiled, and Elsa felt silly, but it made her feel so much better. She was a daddy’s girl and always would be.

              They all gathered around the table and began to eat, conversation flowing. Elsa, however, was pretty silent. She watched her siblings scarf down pancakes and fruit and wondered how they could all seem so at ease. She wasn’t the only one starting a new school. Even her father seemed calm and happy, even though today was his first day on the job as a history professor at the small, private university in town. Of course, this had been his dream since he started taking college courses on-line. Originally, he was going to teach on-line, too, but that had changed when Emma and Killian Jones started to think about their children’s futures. Opportunities were limited in Storybrooke, and they wanted their children to reach their full potential. Her father had already switched to his prosthetic hand instead of his hook; that was going to take some getting used to.

              Elsa watched her parents as Killian raised Emma’s hand to his lips and kissed it. Another oddity they had discovered about Storybrooke was that the adults in town were not aging normally. Aunt Regina theorized it was because of all the curses they had been under which froze time. And of course, all the years in Neverland could have long term effects on Captain Hook. Whatever the reason, her parents didn’t look much older than they did in their wedding photos. A line or crease here or there that appeared when they smiled, or a gray hair or two, and that was all. No one would believe they were in their late forties. Well, physically. Chronologically, her father was over 300. Her grandparents also looked like they were in their early thirties when in actuality they should have been in their 70s. It suddenly occurred to Elsa that graduation at Chilton could be quite interesting.

                            ********************************************************

              Elsa spun the dial on her locker, resisting the urge to bang her forehead against the gray metal. She opened it and foisted the two enormous binders her literature professor had given her into the open locker. He had very haughtily informed her that her _public school_ education had been insufficient preparation for his course. She wanted to smugly tell him that her previous three high school literature teachers had been Gandalf the Grey, Professor Digory Kirk, and Anne Shirley. But, of course, she couldn’t. So the irony was that Elsa Jones, daughter of Captain Hook, granddaughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, born and raised in a town filled with literary characters, was forced to do hours of remedial work for her English Lit class.

              “Hey,” a voice sounded to her right. Elsa slammed her locker shut to see a Justin Bieber wanna-be lounging against the row of lockers.

              “Uh, hi,” Elsa answered distractedly as she shoved two text books into her book bag.

              “So listen,” the guy continued, “just wanted to introduce myself. A girl as hot as you deserves to have the pleasure of meeting Chilton’s famous Tristan Dugray.”

              Elsa gave the guy her most epic Jones eyebrow arch followed by her best Emma Swan withering glare.

              The guy – _Tristan_ , ugh, could he be any more pretentious? – was doing that infuriating head bob that cocky guys seemed to think was hot. He then flashed her a flirtatious grin and said, “Here’s the part where you give me _your_ name.”

              “Elsa Jones. And I have to get to class.”

              She turned quickly and headed towards her history class, but the guy just continuing walking next to her, matching her speed.

              “Elsa, huh? Well, I heard you’re new to town, so if you’d like to go out sometime, I can show you around.”

              Elsa barked a laugh, “No way in Hades.”

              Tristan seemed genuinely perplexed at her lack of interest. “Why not?”

              Elsa stopped walking, turned towards him, and released an irritated sigh, “Listen, I’m pretty good at reading people; it’s a family trait. Some girls might fall for your bad boy with a heart of gold routine, but I won’t. Because that’s all it is – a routine. You’re completely self-absorbed, and frankly I don’t feel like competing with your ego.”

              Tristan’s eyes narrowed to angry slits, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a complete bitch?”

              Elsa’s eyes brightened and she smiled widely, “Why thank you, I get that a lot, actually!”

              Elsa couldn’t help smirking at the look on Tristan’s face. Her father always said that he didn’t worry about her falling for some cad because she dealt with arrogant jerks the same way her mother did: with cold indifference mixed with bored passive-aggression. Of course, then her mother had quipped that the combination had worked on him, and then her parents had started kissing like two teenagers. She seriously didn’t think anyone else her age had to deal with horny _parents_.

              Having properly put said jerk in his place, Elsa turned and entered her history classroom. She muttered curses under her breath towards Tristan when she saw that the only seats left were on the front row. She sighed in resignation as she slid into a seat, and then groaned when Tristan slid into the one beside her. He leaned over and whispered in her ear.

              “Can’t get rid of me that easily, Ice Princess.”

              A dark headed brunette sitting behind Tristan giggled, “That’s perfect! You know, ‘cuz her name’s Elsa?”

              A blonde behind her laughed too, “I know, Madeline, right?” The blonde leaned as far as she could into the aisle towards Elsa and started singing, “Let it go, let it go! Can’t hold it back anymore! Let it go! Let it go!” Then both girls dissolved into giggles.

              Elsa squeezed her hands into fists, feeling her icy magic tingling at her finger tips. _I’ll show you Ice Princess!_ She hadn’t been this tempted to use her magic against a bully since Leroy’s kid bad-mouthed her father back in kindergarten. Of course, no one in Storybrooke had ever teased her about her name. Nobody in Storybrooke made Disney movie jokes. I mean, one of the seven dwarves’ kids wasn’t about to sing “Under the Sea” to Ariel’s kid when she could turn right back around and start singing “Hi-ho, Hi-ho, It’s Off to Work We Go.”

              Elsa took a deep breath and released it, then turned to her laughing classmates with a cocky smile, an arched eyebrow, and an imperially tilted chin that would make her grandmother proud. “That’s Ice _Queen_ , actually.”

              Madeline and the blonde, whose name was Louise if Elsa remembered correctly, gave her open-mouthed shocked expressions and then rolled their eyes. Suddenly, the girl sitting behind Elsa leaned forward and hissed in her ear.

              “If you think you’re going to waltz in her and take away everything that I have worked my ass off for, you’ve got a rude awakening coming.” The girl paused a moment then added, “The name’s Paris Gellar, and don’t you dare forget it.”

              Bloody hell! Elsa had apparently stumbled into a world that was a cross between _Heathers_ and _Mean Girls_. Maybe she could ask Jefferson to mail her one of his hats. Any realm would better than this!

                            *************************************************************

              The chatter at the Jones family dinner table floated around Elsa as she mutilated the baked potato on her plate with her fork. They had been in Orchard Hills for a month now, and she hated it just as much as she had when they first arrived.

              Everyone else in her family, however, were adjusting just fine. Her mother loved her job as detective at the police station, and her father was in his element teaching history. While Elsa was tortured every moment of every day by her classmates at Chilton, her siblings had all made friends seemingly overnight. She struggled with mounds of homework while, as usual, everything seemed to come easily to the other three Jones children. The worst part of it all was that it didn’t seem like any one in her family cared that she was miserable.

              Elsa took a deep breath, straightened in her chair, and dropped her fork with a loud clatter. “I’m moving back to Storybrooke,” she announced.

              The table went silent instantly and her parents exchanged one of those eerie looks they did when they were apparently reading each other’s minds. Emma squeezed her husband’s hand and then turned to her daughter.

              “What do you mean you’re moving back to Storybrooke?”

              Elsa rolled her eyes, “It means exactly that. I’m moving back. I’ll live in the loft with Grandma and Grandpa or crash with Robin, Aunt Regina, and Aunt Zelena. They have tons of room.”

              Her father’s jaw clenched and his eyes were tender when he spoke, “Are you that unhappy here, little love?”

              She knew now she had hurt her father’s feelings. He hadn’t called her “little love” since she was thirteen. But she couldn’t worry about that right now, she had to tell the truth. “Yes, Daddy! I hate it here! I have friends back in Storybrooke, but here –“

              Elsa broke off. She didn’t want to admit that here she was lonely. But that was the truth. She missed Robin and Colette who had been her best friend’s since birth. She missed her Uncle Neal, and even Tinkerbell’s son Brandon, even though his perpetual crush on her was annoying. Annoying until he wasn’t around anymore. She kept in touch with all of them on social media and facetime, but it just wasn’t the same. She looked around to see her entire family staring at her, and for some reason, it made the tears come. She had held them back for so long, trying to put on a brave face, that once they started they were a torrent that she couldn’t control.

              “Not that any of you care!” she shouted and then ran from the table. She felt like a Disney movie cliché, flinging herself across the bed as she sobbed.

              She felt a hand begin to rub her back and knew from the slender fingers and smooth skin that it was her mother’s hand. Emma said nothing as Elsa sobbed on and on, until her tears were spent. Elsa rolled over, clutching a pillow to her chest, and regarded her mother with red-rimmed eyes. Emma smiled patiently, brushing a strand of hair from Elsa’s forehead.

              “This is about more than missing Storybrooke, isn’t it?” she finally said to her daughter.

              Elsa scrunched up her forehead, “What do you mean?”

              Emma just gave her a sad, knowing smile, “Be honest, Elsa, you’ve been unhappy for quite some time. Even before we left Storybrooke.”

              Elsa scooted up to lean against the headboard. She kept her head down, tracing the embroidery on the pillow in her lap.

              “Talk to me, sweetheart,” Emma encouraged, rubbing Elsa’s knee, “You’ve always had a spark about you that I adore. But the past couple of years, you’ve lost a little of that. Why?”

              Elsa finally looked into her mother’s face through half-shuttered eyelids, “Promise you won’t be mad?”

              Emma solemnly crossed her chest with her pointer finger and then gave her daughter a slight nod. Elsa sighed and continued tracing the pattern on the pillow.

              “A new prophecy was given in the Enchanted Forest, mom. It states that a person of noble blood will come from the Land Without Magic to restore the kingdom of Misthaven to its former glory. A person born in the Land Without Magic but with an Enchanted Forest lineage.” She squirmed a bit as she relayed the next bit of information, “Roland thinks the prophesied ruler is me. He says lots of people agree with him and that I have an entire army ready to crown me Queen.” Elsa saw something flash across her mother’s eyes and knew what she was thinking, “Henry agrees with him, mom.”

              Emma nodded, “Elsa, honey, are you sure this is really about the prophesy,” she hesitated a moment, then took Elsa’s hand, “or about the young man who told you about it?”

              Elsa pulled away from her mother’s grasp and covered her face with both hands, “Mom,” she groaned, “Roland is . . . my friend. I’ve known him since I was six! He’s . . . he’s . . .”

              “Also the boy you’ve fallen in love with,” her mother supplied gently.

              Elsa’s face flamed as she attempted to avoid her mother’s gaze, “It’s not like that, Mom! Roland is . . . he’s twenty, Mom!”

              Her mother smiled a knowing smile, “Mmhm, like mother like daughter. Although I’m glad you don’t like them as old as I apparently do.”

              “Mom!”

              Emma chuckled, “Well, think about it, the youngest man I was ever involved with was technically old enough to be my father. And all the others had a few hundred years on me at least.”

              Elsa snorted, “Try telling that to dad. Remember the time he almost slit Roland’s throat when all we were doing was sparing with our swords?”

              “Well, I agree with your father that you’re too young at 16 to be dating a 20 year old.”

              “But I thought you just said – “

              Emma raised her hand, “I said there’s nothing wrong with falling for an older man. When you’re mature enough. But I wasn’t much older than you when I met Henry’s dad, and it wasn’t healthy, believe me.”

Elsa rolled her eyes, “You don’t have to worry mom, Roland sees me as nothing more than a kid sister.” She suddenly felt a tear roll down her cheek, and she dashed at it in embarrassment. “Oh mom, I don’t know how my feelings changed exactly, but they did. I almost wish they didn’t. I mean, I didn’t want them to change. But we went for a visit when I was 14, and suddenly I noticed how broad his shoulders were when I hugged him and how good he smelled. Ever since, my feelings have just grown and . . . “ Elsa trailed off as sobs shook her body. Her mother gathered her in her arms and ran her fingers over her hair. “Mom, I love him so much, but all I am to him is his little squirrel. Like always.”

Emma pulled back and smiled at her daughter as she played with a strand of her dark hair, “That’s the way he sees you now, but someday, _he_ may be the one surprised to see a woman standing in front of him instead of a little girl. And when you’re say . . . 22 and Roland is 26 . . . Well, then the age difference won’t mean anything, will it?”

“I have to wait until I’m 22!”

Emma laughed gently, “Maybe, maybe not. Is he worth waiting for?”

Elsa closed her eyes and imagined Roland’s deep dimples when he smiled, the way his dark hair curled at the edges, and the flecks of gold in his chocolate brown eyes. She also thought about how easy he was to talk to, what a perfect team they made on adventures, and the way he both fought beside her and protected her. “Yes,” she breathed, “yes, he’s worth waiting for.”

Elsa stayed there, leaning against her mother, feeling lighter despite the headache all her crying had induced. “Mom,” she finally whispered, “after graduation I want to move to the Enchanted Forest.”

Her mother was quiet for a long time. Then, finally, she sighed and said, “I know.”

Elsa lifted her head off Emma’s shoulder and looked at her in surprise. “You do?”

“Well,” Emma chuckled, “for one thing, I know about the princess lessons.”

“How? And they’re not princess lessons, they’re lessons in decorum and diplomacy!”

Emma smiled, “Okay, well, whatever you call them, you ought to know that your grandmother can’t keep a secret.”

Elsa shrugged sheepishly, her mother had a point. Then Emma’s face softened as she traced the apple of her daughter’s cheek, “For another, I know you better than you think, Elsa. You’re not like your younger brothers, your sister, or even your father and me. You’re like your big brother Henry. Born in the Land Without Magic but meant for realms where people truly believe. I know Henry jumped through that portal to Narnia to be with Jill, but I also knew deep in my heart, that’s where he always truly belonged. You’re like him that way, sweetheart.”

“So you’ll let me go?”

Now a tear slipped down her mother’s cheek, “We would never stop you from choosing your own destiny, honey. But can you give us your senior year at least? I don’t think your father and I are quite ready to let you go.”

Elsa looked down at the pillow clenched in her hands one last time. Her friends may be in Storybrooke, but her parents were here in Orchard Hills. They had always been her biggest cheerleaders and had loved her more than any kid could want. Surely she could give this one thing back to them. So she took a deep breath and nodded.

“Sure mom. I can’t let kids like Paris and Tristan scare me off anyway, right?”

Her mother’s beaming smile and crushing hug were all the answer Elsa needed.

              ******************************************************

Elsa hummed as she walked into history class a week later. Even if Paris tortured her or Tristan teased her, it couldn’t erase the smile from her face. Her parents had planned a family reunion so everyone could see their new house in Orchard Hills. Her grandparents, Uncle Neal, Aunt Regina, Aunt Zelena, and Robin were all coming for the weekend. And best of all – Roland was coming too! His visits to this realm were few and far between, so she had a feeling this was her mother’s doing. A thrill went through her just at the thought of seeing him again. It had been a long time – 8 months. She had turned sixteen and had a growth spurt since then. Maybe he would see her differently now. Or maybe he had a girlfriend in the enchanted forest. Eight months was a long time, and things were different in the Enchanted Forest. Surely he wouldn’t be engaged . . .

Elsa was so lost in her thoughts that she was only half paying attention to her history professor. She was mindlessly jotting down the information on the board about an upcoming group project, but she was so busy worrying over Roland that she didn’t realize until it was too late that her teacher was assigning groups.

“And . . . you, you, you, and you.”

“Wait – what?” Elsa sputtered, shaking her head to be sure she’d really seen the three girls her teacher had been pointing to. Based on the look of horror on Paris’s face, she must have seen correctly.

“Mrs. Collins,” Paris called out as the dismissal bell rang, “this isn’t going to work.”

“Why not, Ms. Gellar?”

“I can’t work with her,” Paris practically shouted, her entire body shaking as she jabbed a finger in Elsa’s direction.

Mrs. Collins gave all four girls a stern look, “Oh, I see, teenage girl drama. Well, I don’t give a rat’s ass Ms. Gellar who stole who’s boyfriend or who shunned who in the cafeteria. I’m preparing you for real life, and in real life you have to work with all kinds of people. Good day, ladies.”

Mrs. Collins strode from the room, leaving Elsa to face the withering glares of Paris and her cronies: Louise and Madeline.

“Fine,” Paris bit out, “I have to maintain my GPA, so we’re going to make this work, and an A is the only option for me. Understood?”

Elsa rolled her eyes, “No Paris, I want to flunk out and look like a moron. Of course I want an A!”

“Well excuse me if I don’t know for sure the quality of schools in Podunk, Maine. Now, who’s house are we going to meet at tomorrow morning to do the project? We can’t meet at mine because my parents are dividing everything up for the divorce, so unless you want to duck as Tiffany vases go flying through the air, I suggest we meet somewhere else.”

“My house is being fumigated for termites,” Madeline said with a shrug, “sorry.”

“My mom is re-doing the entire first floor. Even if there was a place to work without saw dust, you wouldn’t be able to hear yourself think over all the power tools,” Louise looked at Elsa, “So I guess we’re going to your house, Ice Princess.”

Panic filled Elsa and her head spun as she thought of multiple fairy tale characters descending on her house, of her father’s hook that he kept in his desk drawer, and the Jolly Roger docked at the slip behind the house, protected by a cloaking spell. All sorts of things could go wrong. “I – I don’t think that’ll work. You see, we’re having a family reunion this weekend, and all these people are coming to the house – “

“Are you embarrassed for us to be seen by your precious family?” snapped Paris.

“Oh no, it’s not that –“

“Will you be singing kumbayah and playing charades from dawn to dusk?”

“Well, no, the reunion officially starts early afternoon, but –“

“Then what’s the problem?” Paris asked, and before Elsa could say another word, she barreled on, “Perfect, Elsa, we’ll be at your house at eleven o’clock.”

With a haughty flip of perfectly coiffed hair, all three girls turned on their heels and sauntered away.

 _Bloody hell!_ Elsa thought to herself, _What have I gotten myself into?_


	2. Worlds Collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sorry guys, things got long again! This is now three chapters - but that's really going to be it!  
> * I apologize for the crappy formatting. There are spacing issues and words that I italicized for emphasis or to delineate Elsa’s thoughts didn’t transfer when I copied and pasted. My tablet is waiting for a new charger and keyboard, so I was using my husband's and it was just different. So I hope you can follow everything!

Elsa Jones groaned as the sounds of a violin drifted up the stairs and into her bedroom. She shoved her pillow over her head, but to no avail. The sound of her little brother Charlie playing “Winter” from Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons would not be drowned out. She tossed aside the pillow in aggravation and stomped her way downstairs. 

 

Charlie was in the corner of the family room which also housed his piano, guitar, and djembe drum. His drum set, however, was in the garage. Emma said there was no way she was allowing that noise inside the house. Charlie’s bow ran over the strings furiously during the most intense portion of the music. A few feet away, their father sat in his favorite chair with a coffee mug in his hand. The chair was angled so it was facing a view of the sea, but Killian wasn’t looking at the horizon. Instead, his eyes were closed, and his face was peaceful. He said that Charlie’s music always soothed the places in his soul still plagued by his former dark deeds. Elsa had asked her mother once why her love and the love of their four children wasn’t enough for her dad. Her mother had gently told her that two centuries of darkness left a lot of scars that took an awfully long time to heal. 

 

So maybe Elsa shattered the peaceful scene with her teenage crankiness.

 

“Do you have to do that at eight thirty in the morning on a Saturday?” she shouted, loud enough to startle her little brother.

 

“But I have to practice,” he protested, “the fall recital’s coming soon.”

 

“Charlie has a violin solo with the high school orchestra,” Killian bragged, his face beaming with pride. Charlie grinned bashfully at his father and scratched nervously behind his ear with the end of his bow.

 

“And that’s supposed to matter to me?” Elsa grumbled as she shuffled towards the kitchen.

 

“It matters to me,” Charlie said softly in a wobbly voice. 

 

Elsa sighed as she turned back towards her brother and took in his trembling chin and watery green eyes. She sometimes forgot how sensitive Charlie was. He felt things deeply, a trait that their father said made him such a natural with music. Elsa felt like a dagger was stabbing her heart as she took in Charlie’s wounded expression. She had always doted on her baby brother, ever since she held him as an infant when she was seven years old, and he smiled up at her; his very first smile. She walked across the room and gave Charlie a side hug and then ruffled his hair.

 

“I’m sorry, squirt. I’m just in a bad mood today.”

 

He smiled up at her, dimples forming in his cheeks. “That’s okay. ‘Winter’ is a pretty loud solo. Want me to play ‘Autumn’ instead? I know that’s your favorite.”

 

Elsa smiled back and rubbed his head one more time, “Sure, kiddo. Thanks.”

 

Her father mouthed a silent thank you as he followed her into the kitchen. They both went about making hot chocolate in silence, the warm sounds of Vivaldi’s “Autumn” soothing Elsa’s nerves. Most people liked “Spring” best, but “Autumn” always made Elsa think of warm fires, crackling leaves, and Thanksgiving dinner with their entire crazy family crowded around Aunt Regina’s dining room table. Elsa eased into a chair at the kitchen table, one that faced the sea. Their house here in Orchard Hills was a cape cod style, with a clapboard roof and a back deck littered with Adirondack chairs. The first floor was one great room with exposed wood beams on the ceiling and a back wall made almost entirely of windows facing the water. If not for the cloaking spell Elsa and her mother cast over it, the Jolly Roger would be right there in front of them, docked at their private slip. 

 

Killian sat down next to her, taking a few sips of his cocoa. He was giving her time, she knew it, but he was waiting nonetheless for her to talk.

 

“I don’t mind you prying, you know,” Elsa finally said.

 

“Who said anything about prying? I was just wondering why, after three years of peaceful adolescence, you finally decided to start the angst.”

 

“Just thought I was being too easy on you and mom.”

 

“Is this about your classmates coming here today? Are you worried about us embarrassing you?”

 

Elsa glanced at her father’s intensely worried face. He knew as well as she did there was something deeper going on. “Partly,” she answered honestly, “but it’ also that.” She emphasized the last word, gesturing with her head towards Charlie who was lost in his violin piece.

 

Killian’s forehead furrowed in confusion, “Charlie?”

 

Elsa shook her head, “He’s nine years old playing Vivaldi, dad! Leia’s hacking abilities are so good, she got you a fake . . . everything. At nine! And I struggle with my trigonometry homework while Liam is doing calculus – at age twelve! Do you know how hard it is to have siblings who are geniuses, dad?”

 

“No, I don’t,” he replied slowly, “but I do know what it is to feel as if you don’t measure up. It was that way with my older brother. It seemed as if everything came easier to him. I told him once that he set the bar so high, I could never measure up.”

 

“Yeah, exactly!” Elsa felt some measure of relief just hearing that the way she felt was normal. “I feel like I don’t even belong at Chilton. I feel so behind everyone else, Dad.”

 

Killian scooted over and put his arm around his oldest daughter, “I know that feeling all too well, lass. Growing up the way I did, I never got any schooling. Liam at least taught me to read. But when I went into the Royal Navy, I had so much catching up to do.”

 

“But you did it,” Elsa supplied, “you know Greek and Latin, and part of the reason I love to read is because of you. Belle says you’ve read practically every book in the library. And now you have a master’s degree and teach at the university.”

 

Killian smiled, “Yes, but it wasn’t easy. I think it helped that I valued learning so much. I never took it for granted. Your mother never got the greatest education growing up, either. We both wanted for the four of you what we never had. That’s part of the reason we moved here, Elsa.”

 

“You moved here for Liam, Leia, and Charlie you mean.”

 

“No,” her father told her firmly, turning her gently by the shoulders to face him, “now listen to me, Elsa Elizabeth Jones, you sell yourself short. Your IQ, your grades, and your test scores were all plenty high enough to get into that school on your own merit. You were reading the classics by the time you were eight. You know four languages.”

 

Elsa rolled her eyes at that, “Daddy please! Knowing ancient Greek, Latin, elvish, and fairy tongue are not exactly helpful in this realm.”

 

“It’s helpful in the Enchanted Forest.”

 

Elsa gaped in surprise as she took in her father’s profile. He was trying to look nonchalant as he took a sip of cocoa, but his tense jaw and the narrowing of his eyes gave him away. She shouldn’t have been surprised, though. Her parents talked to each other about everything. 

 

“So Mom told you.” 

 

It wasn’t a question.

 

He finally turned to her with eyes that were swimming with unshed tears, “She also said you promised us one year.” He lowered his mug to grasp her hand and then kissed it, “I want the world for you, my precious lass. I’ll savor every moment of this coming year, and then I’ll watch with pride as you step into your destiny.”

 

Her father did always have a way with words. 

 

“Oh Daddy,” she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck, “I love you so much.”

 

“And I love you too, princess. More than you could ever know.”

 

*********************************************************

 

The Jones household was scurrying with activity in preparation for a houseful of visitors. Leia was upstairs changing sheets and setting out guest towels while Charlie set up air mattresses in the basement. Liam was out on the back deck with their father setting up the fire pit. Emma Jones’ backside was the only thing visible as she fished meat out of their deep freezer in the garage. Her mumbled voice shouted something at Elsa the same moment the doorbell rang. 

 

“My fr- classmates are here, mom!” Elsa shouted. “I have to get the door!”

 

Elsa was slightly out of breath as she pulled the door open, partly from shouting at her mother and partly from nerves, “Hey!” she said with a fake smile at the sight of Paris, Louise, and Madeline on her front stoop. They all had bored, slightly irritated expressions on their face. 

 

Basically, same as always.

 

“Let’s get this over with,” Paris muttered as she brushed past Elsa, the other two girls on her heels.

 

“I like to work in the living room around the coffee table,” Elsa explained as she hurried in behind them, “that’s why my stuff is already there. But we can work at the kitchen table if you want.”

 

“This is fine,” Paris declared, dropping her stuff and settling to the floor. Louise and Madeline followed suit. Elsa wasn’t sure they ever got a say in things.

 

“Hello, girls!” Emma declared as she walked in from the garage, her arms loaded with frozen hamburgers, “I’m Elsa’s mom. I would shake your hands, but I’m afraid mine are full.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Jones,” the three girls all told her politely.

 

“Oh, please, call me Emma. Let me put these down in the kitchen and wash my hands, then I’ll bring you girls something to snack on.”

 

The girls all expressed their thanks as the woman shuffled into the kitchen, and as soon as she was out of ear shot, Madeline leaned over in shock and hissed at Elsa.

 

“Your mom looks so young!”

 

Elsa scratched behind her ear, “Uh, yeah, I know.”

 

“Well, is she?” Madeline continued.

 

“Is she what?” 

 

“Young!”

 

The girls jumped when a hand reached down, setting a plate of pop tarts in the center of the coffee table, “Pop tart appetizers,” Emma explained, “to be followed by the main course: pizza rolls.” 

 

Elsa’s mother straightened and looked directly at a sheepish Madeline before continuing, “And to answer your question . . . I was a teen mom. Enjoy, girls!”

 

Elsa was impressed; her mother had actually told the truth – technically. She never said when she was a teen mom. 

 

“Okay, now that we’ve established that Elsa’s mom was an irresponsible teenager, can we please get to work?” snapped Paris, opening her history book as loudly as possible.

 

Elsa narrowed her eyes at Paris for insulting her mother, but since she wanted to get this whole thing over with as quickly as possible, she opened her own history book. “I agree, let’s get to work.”

 

“So,” Paris said, opening her binder, “the assignment says we have to create a government for an imaginary country. So first we have to decide what form of government we want to use.”

 

Before anyone could voice any suggestions, Liam burst through the back door, yelling at the top of his lungs.

 

“Mo – om! Where’s Dad’s cutlass? And the broadsword grandpa got me?”

 

“Liam!” Elsa hissed frantically. Her brother looked her way and went instantly pale, his mouth forming a small “o” of surprise at the girls sitting with Elsa on the living room floor.

 

“Check the garage,” her mother yelled from somewhere upstairs, “and your sister has guests.”

 

Liam’s face went from pale to red as he saw the four high schoolers staring at him. “Uh . . hi!” he said with a nervous wave, “And . . . bye!” Then he scurried out the garage door as fast as he could. Elsa closed her eyes and counted to ten.

 

Madeline pointed at Liam’s retreating form, her face a mask of confusion, “Uh, was he just looking for swords?”

 

“Yeah,” Elsa said vaguely with a dismissive wave of her hand, “cosplay. Now, where were we?”

 

Thank goodness Paris was laser focused on the assignment. “We were just about to choose a form of government.”

 

“Democracy, of course,” Madeline spoke up immediately, “that’s the American way, so it must be best.”

 

“Madeline,” Louise said to her friend, voice dripping with disdain, “have you been paying attention at all this semester? America is a republic.”

 

“And we’re not patterning our government after America,” Paris snapped, “or do you actually want a C? Oh, wait, you probably do.”

 

Madeline was evidently used to being put down by the queen bee, because she continued, unfazed, “Why can’t we pattern it after America?”

 

“Because it’s the easy way out! The path of least resistance. You have to take risks for an A.” Paris was grasping her pencil so tightly, Elsa waited for it to snap, “I can’t believe I’m surrounded by such incompetence!”

 

Elsa thought about her talk over breakfast with her father. About her talents being more suited for the Enchanted Forest. Then she thought of the lessons in diplomacy from Grandma Snow. A smile spread across Elsa’s face as she spoke, “How about a monarchy?”

 

“You mean a constitutional monarchy?” Louise asked.

 

“What’s that one again?” Madeline asked, her forehead furrowing, “Like would we have a parliament and a prime minister? Or was that a different one?”

 

“No,” Elsa explained, “I mean a monarchy.”

 

“You’re discussing monarchies?” an accented voice questioned from the other side of the couch. 

 

Elsa’s heart dropped as she watched Louise and Madeline look up at her father. Madeline’s mouth fell open and Louise’s eyebrows shot up. 

 

“Uh, guys, this is my dad.”

 

“Killian Jones,” her father said, bowing over each girl’s hand and kissing it. Elsa almost grabbed a pillow from the couch to hide her flaming face behind. Did he always have to act so . . . theatrical?

 

Madeline barely suppressed a giggle and Louise practically purred as she said, “Why hello, Mr. Jones.”

 

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, ladies. You know, if you’re studying monarchies, I could really help –“

 

“Dad!” Elsa cut him off. 

 

“Yes, lass?”

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be . . . doing something else?” She raised her eyebrows, hoping she could make him understand that he needed to go away – now!

 

“Oh, right, the family reunion!” He flashed a dazzling smile and did another half bow, “Some other time, ladies.”

 

Elsa kept her eyes glued to her history book as her father exited the room. Her whole life she had to endure watching women of all ages fall all over themselves when her dad was around. So as soon as his footfalls disappeared down the basement stairs, she tried to cut things off.

 

“So I think –“

 

But she wasn’t quick enough. “Oh. My. God,” Madeline gasped out first.

 

“I know, seriously,” Louise added, “Elsa, your dad is young, too. And hot!”

 

Actually, no, he’s over 300. “Yeah, okay, my parents are young. We’ve established that. Can we please get back to work?”

 

“For once I agree with Elsa,” Paris said, nodding at her. Wait – was that a smile?

 

“Uh, no, we have to talk about this,” Louise continued. “If I were in his class at the university, I wouldn’t hear a damn thing he said.”

 

“Oh, I would hear him,” Madeline broke in, “that accent is sexy.”

 

“Okay,” Elsa said loudly, holding up her hand to stop them, because – ew! – this was her dad they were talking about, “I refuse to let you talk about this anymore.”

 

“But his eyes,” gushed Louise, her head dropping back, “did you see his eyes?”

 

“Yeah, every day of my life. In the mirror, too. Look, would you want someone talking about your dad being hot?”

 

Madeline got a faraway look in her eyes and then shuddered, “Yuck, no. With his love handles and his bald spot?” She shuddered one more time in repulsion.

 

“Okay,” Paris interrupted, all business as usual, “Elsa’s dad is hot, and Elsa doesn’t want us talking about it. End of discussion. Back to the assignment. I think the most efficient form of government is a dictatorship.”

 

Of course she would. Elsa shook her head, “Paris, you can’t be serious.”

 

“Dictators get things done, history doesn’t lie about that point. A military state keeps crime at a minimum, and such a government achieves military dominance, ensuring secure and/or expanding borders.”

 

Madeline turned to Louise, “Sometimes I think she’s a robot.” Then both girls laughed.

 

“It’s better than your idiotic suggestions,” Paris retorted.

 

“Paris,” Elsa began gently, “history also shows, does it not, that dictatorships can’t be sustained? All of them end eventually with shattered economies and weak infrastructures. Not to mention its citizens live in misery.”

 

“So what,” snapped Paris, “you wanna be queen of the Kingdom of Enchancia or some schoolgirl nonsense like that?”

 

“If someone’s going to be queen, it should be me,” countered Louise, with a flip of her hair.

 

“Please,” Paris groaned, “over my dead body.”

 

Before things could escalate any further, the doorbell rang and Leia bounded down the stairs, yelling, “Got it!”

 

Paris groaned, “Is everyone in your family loud?”

 

“Grandma! Grandpa!” Leia squealed as the door swung open, and Elsa winced. Her grandparents weren’t supposed to arrive until later. After her classmates had left. And why, oh why, hadn’t she asked her siblings not to say “grandma” and “grandpa”?

 

“How’s one of my two favorite granddaughters?” Elsa heard her grandfather proclaim. She also heard Leia giggle breathlessly and could imagine their grandfather swinging the blonde around in a sweeping hug. Before she could get her bearings, her grandparents entered the room. “There she is!” David Nolan cried as he bent to kiss Elsa on the cheek, “My other gorgeous granddaughter!”

 

“You’re Elsa’s grandfather?”

 

David’s face went pale and his eyes went wide at the sound of Louise’s voice. If chins had been hitting the coffee table when Killian Jones entered the room, they were positively coming unhinged at the sight of Prince Charming.

 

“David!” Elsa’s grandmother said with bright cheerfulness, “Didn’t you stop and see that Elsa has guests?”

 

“No,” David said through a false smile, “I didn’t see that, sweetheart.”

 

Elsa groaned and rubbed her forehead. She was getting a headache. “Yes, guys, these are my grandparents.”

 

Paris narrowed her eyes, finally finding Elsa’s family interesting, “How is that possible?”

 

“I was a teen mom,” Snow burst out, and Elsa suppressed another groan. Her grandmother couldn’t have made it more obvious that she was lying if she had tried.

 

“And good genes,” David added quickly at the sight of Paris’s raised eyebrows and incredulous look, “Our family has really good genes.”

 

“Yes, good genes,” another voice added, and Elsa was relieved to see her mother enter the room, arms loaded down with cans of Coke, “I thought you girls might be thirsty.”

 

Elsa helped her mother hand them out, and then her grandparents were quickly ushered out into the back yard. Emma sighed and took a sip of her Coke with a shaking hand.

 

“You know who your grandmother reminds me of?” Madeline asked somewhat dreamily. “Snow White.”

 

Elsa choked and spit Coke all over her history book. “Sorry,” she sputtered.

 

“What?” Madeline asked defensively. “You know, hair black as ebony, skin white as snow? I would kill for skin like your grandma’s Elsa.”

 

Before Paris could have another apoplectic fit about their lack of focus, Leia came into the room struggling with a duffel bag. “Charlie! Come get grandma’s suitcase!”

 

“I’ve got it, Leia,” another voice said, hurrying behind Elsa’s little sister. Her Uncle Neal flashed a grin and dashed over to give her a quick hug hello. He shuffled his feet and waved at her friends. She could practically see Louise salivating again. Uncle Neal was also handsome, broad shouldered and blue eyed with a chiseled chin like his father but with his mother’s dark hair. Pretty much tall, dark, and handsome personified. “Um, is Robin here yet?”

 

“No,” Elsa said with a shake of her head, “you guys are early. Why?”

 

“Oh, no reason,” Neal said quickly, but Elsa thought she saw him blush. “Where does all this go?”

 

“Liam and Charlie are sleeping on the Jo – I mean, on the couch so grandma and grandpa can have their room. You and Roland will be crashing in the basement.”

 

He nodded and beat a hasty retreat. She wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t said hello to the other three girls huddled around the coffee table nor by the fact that he left quickly before she could introduce him. Neal was a man of few words and a bit on the shy side. Louise practically fell backwards as she craned her neck to watch him ascend the stairs with his parents’ luggage.

 

“Good genes, is right,” she muttered appreciatively.

 

“Wait,” Paris said slowly, “you called your grandparents his parents. So that guy is your . . . uncle?”

 

Elsa shrugged, unsure how to dig herself out of this hole. 

 

“Your family is twisted, Jones.”

 

You have no idea.

 

And the hole only got deeper. Apparently, Elsa’s entire extended family was so excited about the reunion, they all showed up insanely early. After Neal, the next to arrive was Robin. The red head barreled through the front door, squealing and practically knocking Elsa over. Elsa couldn’t help the huge grin practically cracking her face as she hugged her best friend tightly. 

 

“Oh my god, Elsa, I have missed you like crazy!” Robin’s green eyes sparked with mischief. “We have got to talk later. About . . . stuff. Is Neal here yet?”

 

Elsa narrowed her eyes suspiciously as her best friend’s eyes darted around the room. “Yeah, I think he just went into the kitchen to get something to drink.” 

 

“You know, I’m thirsty, too . . .” Robin trailed off, heading in the direction of the kitchen. 

 

Elsa was a little hurt that her best friend was abandoning her so quickly, but she didn’t have the time to analyze it when Aunt Regina and Aunt Zelena both came through the door. Both women embraced her, and then introduced themselves to her “friends” from school. This one was a bit easier, since longtime family friends that you called “aunt” as a term of endearment didn’t carry any baggage. But the arrival of Elsa’s aunts had her heart pounding for entirely different reasons.

 

Regina and Zelena had headed up to the guest bedroom to freshen up when a masculine voice sounded from the entryway, hidden behind a stack of hat boxes. “Robin, can you get in here and help me, please?” Roland’s voice called out. “How many hats does your mother need, anyway?”

 

“Roly!” Elsa squealed, leaping up from her spot on the living room floor. 

 

“Squirrel?” Roland asked as he quickly set aside the hat boxes.

 

Elsa collided with him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He hesitated for a moment before hugging her back. Why did his embrace seem more tentative than the last time? Elsa stepped back and regarded him with a curious expression. Roland stood there with his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she fussed with first her hair and then the scoop necked blue shirt she was wearing. She ran her tongue over her front teeth quickly too. What was he staring at?

 

“Roland?” she said tentatively. “What’s wrong?”

 

He gave his head a little shake and then smiled that familiar smile, deepening the dimples that always graced his cheeks, “Sorry, it’s just you’re . . . I mean, you grew – er – got taller, I mean.”

 

Elsa shrugged, “I turned 16 and got a growth spurt.”

 

“I see,” he said softly, then quickly added, “I don’t think I can call you squirrel anymore.”

 

The smile on Elsa’s face faltered, “Why not?”

 

“Roland!” a voice sounded from upstairs, and the young man jumped at the sound. “Where are my hat boxes?”

 

Roland laughed, and Elsa hated that it sounded nervous. This was her best friend! He picked up the hat boxes. “I better get these to Zelena,” he explained, and Elsa pointed him to the stairs. Her eyes lingered on his form as he ascended the steps, her heart sinking with worry. Things seemed awkward between them all of a sudden, and she didn’t like it at all.

 

“So that’s who gets your heart pounding,” Louise said in a teasing voice as Elsa sat down again at the coffee table. 

 

“Oh, Roland?” Elsa hedged, picking up her pencil and gnawing on the eraser. “We’re just good friends.”

 

“He’s hot,” Louise went on, “and those dimples are adorable. How old is he?”

 

“Twenty.”

 

Louise grinned in an almost sinful way, “An older guy. Nice.”

 

“Yuck,” Madeline interjected, “he’s probably like her cousin or something. This is a family reunion, remember?”

 

Elsa shook her head, “Roland isn’t related to me at all. He’s Robin’s half-brother. And even if Zelena was his mother, I’m not related to her either.”

 

“So,” Louise said conspiratorially, leaning closer over the coffee table, “what kind of a kisser is he?”

 

“I . . . uh, I haven’t. I mean, he’s twenty, and I’m 16, so . . . “ Elsa felt suddenly awkward and jumped up from the floor, “I’m thirsty again. Anyone else want something?”

 

“To actually get some work done,” Paris answered with a roll of her eyes, “that’s what want.”

 

Elsa ignored her and headed for the kitchen. She was completely lost in thought as she walked around the half-wall partition that blocked the coffee table from the view of the kitchen. Until she saw her best friend pinned against the refrigerator – by her uncle.

 

“Oh, God!” Elsa cried, clapping her hand to her eyes. Neal’s mouth was on Robin’s neck, her hands were threaded through his hair, and his hand was – well, she didn’t want to think about where his hand was. 

 

Neal leapt away from Robin at the sound of Elsa’s voice, but Robin was nonplussed. She reached her hand out to drape it across Neal’s shoulder and looked at Elsa with a smirk.  
“Well,” the red head said, giving Neal a heated glance, “I guess you figured out the stuff I wanted to talk about.”

 

Elsa was speechless – completely and utterly speechless – as she looked from one to the other. If there were ever two people in this world so completely different, Elsa had never heard of them. 

 

“Please don’t tell my parents about this,” Neal pleaded.

 

Elsa’s eyebrows lifted to her hairline, “You mean they don’t know?”

 

Robin gave Elsa a grin that was almost wicked, “Your grandparents don’t exactly approve of me.”

 

Elsa groaned, “Fine, I won’t say anything. But can you get out of my way? I’m thirsty.” Elsa grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and then gave both seventeen year olds a wary glance as she walked out of the kitchen. “And find someplace else to make out. I never want to see that again.”

 

Elsa attempted to ignore it when Neal whispered something about his parents being in the backyard followed by both of them giggling as they ran hand in hand up the back stairwell. She shuddered. At least it wasn’t her bedroom.

 

Elsa walked out of the kitchen and stopped in her tracks when all three of her siblings burst through the back door. 

 

“Dad said to get in the basement –“ Leia panted.

 

“because something’s coming,” Charlie finished for his twin.

 

Elsa’s heart leapt into her throat, and she strode to her father’s desk by the bay window. Ignoring Paris’s questions, Elsa pulled out her father’s spy glass and put it to her right eye. She gasped at what she saw, the water bottle slipping from her other hand and bouncing with a splash as it hit the floor. 

 

“The Black Pearl,” she whispered, terror gripping her at the sight of the ominous black ship with its tattered sails.

 

“The Black Pearl!” Liam cried. “But I thought you sent Blackbeard to Agrabah!”

 

Paris jumped from her spot on the kitchen floor. “Look! I don’t know what kind of weird cosplay thing your family does for reunions, but we don’t have time for this! Our assignment is due on Monday!”

 

Elsa ignored the girl as she returned the spy glass and took the twins by the hand, pulling them towards the basement door. She turned to Liam, “The three of you get downstairs and lock all the doors.”

 

“But if someone with magic is on that ship –“

 

“I’ll put a protection spell on the door once you’re down there. Now go!”

 

Her siblings raced down the stairs to the basement just as a thunderous boom sounded from the backyard, shaking the entire house and making the windows rattle. Louise and Madeline screamed, Paris shouted more questions, and Elsa’s siblings ran downstairs with wide, terrified eyes. Roland bounded down the stairs shouting Elsa’s name. He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Y-yes, I’m fine. A pirate ship is coming. I – I think that was a cannonball.”

 

Roland relinquished his hold on her and darted out the back door just as Neal and Robin came running downstairs, hair disheveled and clothing askew. It would have made Elsa want to gouge her eyes out at any other time, but her uncle’s romantic entanglements were the least of her worries right now. Everything felt slightly surreal as Neal followed after Roland, Robin’s hand still in his. Madeline and Louise screamed again, and Elsa could see why. Neal had found a sword somewhere and had it clenched in his right hand. Elsa ignored her classmate’s terror as she turned her attention to the basement door. Once she used her magic in front of them, there would be no turning back, but her siblings’ safety was more important.

 

Before Elsa could cast the protection spell, the back door flew open again with a loud crash. Her father burst through, cutlass in hand. Surprisingly, the girls didn’t scream at the sight. Killian Jones reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a shiny steel hook. He removed his prosthetic hand and inserted the hook with the familiar double click that Elsa knew so well.

 

Now the girls screamed.


	3. What This Family Does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, ya'll!

              When Elsa’s father pointed at her and her classmates, telling them in his most stern captain’s voice to get the bloody hell in the basement, Louise and Madeline were screaming too frantically to obey, and Paris began arguing. Her father just gave her a withering look and raced out the back door. Part of her wanted to go after him, the daddy’s girl part that was nurturing an irrational fear that she would never see him again. Because surely it _was_ irrational? Right?

              But she couldn’t chase after him right now because her siblings needed protection, and her classmates were freaking out, and what exactly _was_ her life? So she flicked her hand in exasperation to transport them all to the basement. When the smoke cleared, Louise froze as if she were in shock, Madeline fainted, and Paris went on a tirade.

              Okay, so maybe she should have eased them into the magic part.

              Paris’s string of irate words were just background noise as she put a protection spell over the back door leading outside and the stairwell. Robin knew the counter spell, so if any of her family members needed to join them, they could.

              Still ignoring Paris, she turned to her siblings and the girls and commanded, “Stay here!” just as the house rocked again, whether from cannons or magic, Elsa couldn’t say.

              She went to dash up the stairs, but collided with Robin. On her heels were Neal and Roland.

              “Your dad says there’s an armory hidden down here,” Neal said, all business, “where?”

              Elsa reached for a copy of J.M. Barrie’s _Peter Pan,_ and gave it a pull. The bookcase then flipped out to reveal a collection of cutlasses, broadswords, daggers, and a bow and arrow.

              “Isn’t that a little obvious?” Roland quipped with a teasing smile.

              Elsa shrugged, “We couldn’t resist.”

              Elsa and the rest of her “family” began arming themselves to the teeth – even Charlie and Leia who slipped daggers into the belts at their waist. This proved too much for Paris.

              “No way am I going to get chopped up into little pieces by the cast of _The Maine Chainsaw Massacre_. I’m getting the hell out of here because I swear to God, I’m not the kind of person to walk down dark alleys when a serial killer is loose or chat with some creepy anonymous caller about my favorite horror movies.” Paris took a breath when something seemed to occur to her. “Oh, God, but I did allow myself to get lured into the basement after the handsome home owner dons a huge, scary steel hook. Out of my damn way!”

              But before Paris could attempt to storm out (which would be pointless anyway with the protection spell surrounding the basement), Robin rolled her eyes in irritation and flicked her hand. Paris fell to a heap on the floor.

              “Robin!”

              “Oh come on, Elsa, you can’t tell me she wasn’t getting on your nerves!” Robin flicked her hair over her shoulder, “Everyone should be thanking me.”

              Louise, who was attempting to revive Madeline, started screaming again, and Elsa raised both eyebrows at her best friend.

              “Fine,” Robin huffed.

              They managed to calm Louise down, wake Madeline up, and carry Paris to the couch. Then Robin lifted the spell off Paris. The second she was awake, Paris opened her mouth to start yelling at everyone again, but nothing came out. Her eyes bulged as she attempted to speak again, clutching her throat in a panic when nothing came out. Elsa gave Robin an irritated glare.

              “What? You _want_ to listen to her grating voice go on and on?”

              Elsa just rolled her eyes and looked at her classmates. “Okay, guys, this is going to be difficult to understand and believe, but . . . my family? We’re all . . . that is to say we . . . there’s magic, and . . . “

              “Look,” Robin interrupted, “every story you’ve ever read? They’re all real. We,” here Robin gestured to all of the young people in the room, “are the children of storybook characters.”

              Then Robin went around the room, pointing at each of them in turn.

              “Children of Captain Hook and grandchildren of Snow White and Prince Charming, son of Snow White and Prince Charming, son of Robin Hood and Maid Marian, and I” Robin grins gleefully “am the daughter of Robin Hood and the Wicked Witch of the West.”

              Paris gesticulated wildly as her mouth moved soundlessly, Madeline’s jaw droppeed, and Louise raised both eyebrows.

              “Wait,” Louise finally said, “let me get this straight. You’re the kids of Disney characters? Like some cheesy musical on the Disney Channel?”

              Elsa could tell the three girls had anything but the hearts of true believers.

              “Let’s show them, Elsa,” Robin said with a grin.

She conjured a fireball in her hand and then tossed it into the fireplace, which burst into flame. Louise and Madeline jumped and screeched. Elsa conjured a ball of ice and threw it, too, putting out the flames instantly. Leia walked up behind them with two thick books in her hands. She set one in Louise’s lap and the other in Madeline’s.

“Read up,” she told them, patting the covers. Louise and Madeline exchanged glances then both tentatively opened their books: _The Pirate and The Princess_ and _Once Upon a Time_ , respectively.

Elsa shook her head; the mental state of her classmates was the least of her concerns. As long as they weren’t in danger of getting themselves killed, she had more important things to do.

“Liam, Leia, Charlie – keep an eye on the girls,” Elsa turned and grabbed a cutlass from the armory, “the rest of you, let’s go.”

Roland grabbed her by the elbow before her feet could hit the first step, “Uh, no. Actually, we’re all staying here.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Are you insane?” Elsa shouted, “Robin and I have just as much strength with magic as our moms’ and Aunt Regina do. You’re your dad all over again with a bow, and I can say the same for Neal with a sword. And I’m a pretty damn good fighter too. Our parents need us!”

She didn’t even wait for Roland’s response, figuring it was a no-brainer, and headed for the stairs. Roland yanked her back.

“Elsa, I said we need to stay here.”

“Who made _you_ boss? I’m not a baby!”

“Your father made me swear, damn it!” Roland yelled, yanking her closer to his chest, which was heaving from the emotion of his outburst. “I swore to your father I would keep you safe, Elsa.”

Elsa began to tremble, though she wasn’t sure if it was from anger or from being held so closely against Roland’s broad chest. She rested her hand there for a moment, but then shoved him away as hard as she could. “He shouldn’t have done that. I won’t stand by when a fight is going on.”

“And if their first line of defense falters?” Roland challenged. “What then? Who will guard your siblings, Elsa, answer me that?”               She deflated as she looked over at her brothers and sister. Liam gripped a sword in a white-knuckled grip, Leia’s face was ashen with terror, and Charlie’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears. They were still just children, and her heart raced at the thought of them having to face any battles. Roland seemed to sense her thoughts and released her arm.

“Your father loves you, Elsa, all four of you. He could never bear to lose you,” Roland swallowed hard and searched her face intently, “and neither could I.”

Elsa’s lip trembled, and she suddenly wished she could bury her face in Roland’s chest and cry. But she couldn’t do that. Her siblings were looking to her to stay strong. So she squared her shoulders and put on a brave face.

“Okay,” she said with a nod, “let’s defend this family the way we’ve been raised to.”

              ********************************************************

“This is the most romantic version of Snow White I have ever read,” Madeline sighed.

“You think yours is romantic, you should read mine. This is romance of epic proportions,” countered Louise, “Elsa, your mom seriously went to the _Underworld_ to get your dad back after he _died_?”

“Uh, yeah,” Elsa muttered distractedly as she paced the room, her hand almost cramping from how hard she was gripping the hilt of her cutlass.

“You can’t seriously think that crap is real,” Paris snapped. Elsa was beginning to wish she hadn’t demanded that Robin undue her spell.

“They did magic,” Madeline argued. “Didn’t you see the fireplace?”

“We’ve obviously been given hallucinogenic drugs,” Paris argued. Her hand drifted to her forehead, trembling. Elsa had never seen her so unhinged. “And we’re just sitting here . . . sitting here waiting to be chopped up and shoved in their freezer . . . “

“Please,” Robin quipped with a roll of her eyes, “we would never do something that gruesome. We’d just rip out your hearts and crush them to powder.”

“Robin!” Elsa exclaimed, then turned to her classmates, “She’s kidding, I swear!”

“Well, your Aunt Regina does it,” Madeline said, holding up an illustration from her book, “that poor huntsman . . .” Then she bent over the book, engrossed again in the story.

Louise was lost in her book as well. “Seriously, Elsa I can’t chose which part I think is more romantic. I mean, your dad bandaging your mom’s hand with his teeth? Seriously hot. But then the horseback ride out into the middlemist field, the daring rescue with Henry from the tower, and he traded his _ship_ for her? I’m dying of feels here . . .”

Paris threw her hands up in the air, “You two are complete airheads! Why do I even try?”

Elsa ignored Paris, focusing on the outside of the house where the battle should be raging. “It’s gotten awfully quiet . . .”

Roland paused to listen, too. “You’re right. _Too_ quiet.”

Elsa closed her eyes and reached out with her magic, then her eyes flew open. “They’re gone!”

She flung her hand to lift the protection spell, then went racing out the basement door into the backyard. Her family and classmates raced after her, Roland and her siblings calling her name. She skidded to a halt a few feet from the fire pit. Scorch marks littered the ground, and there were three bodies lying on the ground. Louise and Madeline screamed again.

“Pirate,” Elsa said as she leaned over one of the bodies.

“This one, too,” Neal called.

“Not this one,” Roland said, a note of dread in his voice.

Everyone gathered around the body of a woman with long, jet black hair streaked with silver. Her dress was a glittery navy blue with billowing sleeves, dotted with a pattern of stars and crescent moons. Robin waved her hand over the woman’s form, which lay bent crookedly on the ground.

“She’s dead,” Robin sighed, “but she _did_ possess dark magic when she lived. I can still sense it radiating off her.”

“Dark magic indeed,” agreed Roland, “this was Morgause, one of the three half sisters of King Arthur of Camelot. She and her sisters Elaine and Morgan are all witches.”

“A witch from Camelot with a bunch of pirates?” Neal asked, “What were they doing together, and what did they want with our family?”

“I don’t know,” Elsa said with a shake of her head, “but we have a more immediate problem. This happened in the Land Without Magic.”

Elsa glanced at the houses on either side of hers, and out towards the road that ran in front of their house. She quickly waved her hands over the lawn, and the three dead bodies vanished. Then she turned to her classmates, who stood rooted in terror, and waved her hand over them as well. They all feel in a heap to the ground.

“How is that different from what I did?” Robin complained.

Elsa rolled her eyes, “We couldn’t have them running off and blabbing to anyone.”

“Guys,” Neal said quietly, walking up with a very familiar sword in his hand.

“Grandpa’s sword!” Leia cried out, her hands flying to her mouth.

Elsa waved her hand over the bloodied blade, then sighed in relief, “The blood isn’t his.”

Neal’s arms shook as he lowered the sword. Robin stepped up and wrapped her arms around his waist, and he turned and buried his face into her neck. The entire group was in shock.

“Where did they all go?” Charlie asked, his voice cracking, “You don’t think they’re . . . gone forever?”

Elsa pulled Charlie close and kissed the top of his dark head, “No, sweetie. They aren’t . . . dead.”

He looked up at her as a tear slipped down his cheek. “How can you be sure?”

Elsa smiled down at him, “Because when you love someone, you know.”

She caught Roland’s eye over the top of Charlie’s head, and he gave her a gentle smile.

“So what do we do now?” Robin asked from the circle of Neal’s arms. “Go to Camelot?”

“Elsa,” Roland asked, “can you still open portals like when you were little?”

“Yes, but it takes a lot out of me. If they weren’t taken to Camelot, I may not have the strength to get us anywhere else. I’m certainly not strong enough to send us hopping to multiple realms searching.” Elsa looked out to sea and took a deep breath of the salty air. Like the rest of the Jones family, the sea calmed her and cleared her mind. “If we can sail out far enough, I can contact Ariel. She may have seen something or heard something from another mermaid about the Black Pearl.”

She caught the eyes of the others, and they all exchanged nods of agreement. “Okay then,” Roland said firmly, “to the Jolly Roger, then.”

“Uh,” Liam spoke up, “what about them?” He pointed to Paris, Louise, and Madeline who lay in a heap on the grass.

“Can you two erase their memories?” Neal asked Robin and Elsa.

Elsa shook her head, “We’d need to make a potion for that, and all the ingredients are back in Aunt Regina’s vault in Storybrooke.”

“Plus we’ve never done it before,” Robin admitted grudgingly. “It requires pretty complex alchemy. Get one ingredient off by the tiniest degree, and we could have three drooling vegetables on our hands.”

“Your mom’s dreamcatchers?” Roland asked.

Elsa sighed, “Even more dangerous. We could pull every memory they have out of their heads, and again – vegetables.”

Leia sighed, “So I guess they’re coming with us. Then mom can deal with their memories.”

Elsa groaned and rubbed her forehead. A rescue mission was hard enough without Louise’s high maintenance whining, Madeline’s stupidity, and Paris’s sarcasm. “I guess we have no choice.” Elsa waved her hand, and the entire group was transported to the deck of her father’s ship.

              ************************************************************             

“Okay, sis, we’re fifty nautical miles off the coast!”

Elsa turned to nod at her brother who was at the helm of the Jolly Roger. She turned to the twins.

“Did you find it?”

They nodded and Leia opened her palm to reveal a small, white shell. Elsa took it gently and turned towards the railing.

“What is that?” Madeline asked.

Elsa smiled wryly, “We jokingly call it a shell phone. Let’s just say they don’t have wireless access in the Enchanted Forest. My dad has used these forever to contact people. He got them – okay, stole them – from the mermaids in Neverland.”

“Mermaids!” Louise exclaimed, “Cool! We get to meet a mermaid?”

“Don’t encourage her!” Paris snapped, then groaned and leaned over the railing. Just when Elsa thought the girl couldn’t possibly puke anymore.

Elsa ignored everyone and spoke into the shell. “Ariel? Ariel, are you out there? It’s Elsa Jones, and it’s an emergency.”

“Ariel?” Madeline squealed, “As in _The Little Mermaid_?”

“Yes, she’s friends with my dad,” Elsa answered distractedly as she scanned the waves. She let out a relieved breath when the red-headed mermaid herself broke the surface of the water.

“Elsa!” Ariel cried out, “I was on my way to your house! Your parents wanted you to know they were okay.”

“You’ve seen them?” Elsa shouted back, then she turned to her “crew,” “Roland, Neal, quick, get the rope ladder.”

They quickly got the ladder lowered, and Ariel put on her enchanted bracelet so she could climb on board. She was smiling, as usual, even though her brow was furrowed in concern.

“Ariel,” Madeline breathed, “I can’t believe it! You were my _favorite_ when I was a little girl!”

“Oh,” Ariel giggled nervously, “if this is about that cartoon, I don’t sing. That’s Ursula.”

“The villain?” Madeline asked, face lined with confusion.

“Long story,” Elsa shook her head and turned to Ariel, “you said you spoke to my parents?”

“Well, not really, but your dad gave me this,” Ariel reached into the pouch at her waist and retrieved a ring with a red stone dangling from a chain.

Elsa took it with shaking hands, “The ring he gave to my mom in Camelot.”

“I was swimming along, on my way home from visiting my family, when I came upon a ship – The Black Pearl. I hadn’t seen it since that battle when you were little in Storybrooke. Naturally, I wondered who was aboard, and as I swam closer, I saw a figure standing with his back to the railing. It was your dad. His hook glinted in the sun, and I saw that ring dangling from it. Then he dropped it, and I knew he was giving it to me.”

“But he was okay?” asked Charlie, “And what about mom?”

“I heard both your parents voices, they were talking loud enough on purpose for me to hear. Barbosa is captain of The Black Pearl again, and he’s in league with a witch named Morgan Le Fey. They’re taking them to Camelot. That’s all I know.”

“Did you see my mom?” Robin asked.

“Or my parents?” Neal added.

Ariel shook her head, “I’m sorry, I only saw Hook and heard Emma’s voice. I wish I could be more help.”

“No, Ariel,” Elsa told her quickly, her fist closing over the ring, “you’ve helped tremendously.”

Ariel turned to leap back into the sea, but then turned sympathetic eyes towards Paris. She pulled a vial from her pouch and handed it to the pale-faced girl, “Crocodile tears. For your seasickness.” Then, with a splash, Ariel was gone.

Paris moaned, leaned over the rail, and got sick again.

“Take the damn medicine, Paris,” Louise snapped.

“No,” Paris said, with a shake of her head, “I’m not seasick, this is from the drugs they gave us. And I’m sure as hell not taking _more_ drugs from some chick who thinks she’s a mermaid.”

Louise snatched up the vial and marched towards her friend, “Take it Paris, or I swear to God I’ll pin you down and shove it down your throat.”

Elsa tried not to laugh as Paris’s eyes grew wide in shock. Paris clearly wasn’t used to anyone ordering her around.

“Fine,” Paris snapped, grabbing the vial and downing its contents, “happy now?”

“You better be glad crocodile tears work quickly,” Elsa told her.

“Why is that?”

“Because things are about to get a lot more bumpy.”

Elsa closed her eyes and lifted both hands. She thought of Camelot; its rolling hills, its glittering sea; its fields of middlemist roses. She felt that old, familiar tug in her heart as the magic swirled around her, purple mist growing and swirling into a vortex.

“Hold on to something!” Roland shouted.

Roland grabbed Elsa around the waist and held her close just as the Jolly Roger took a sharp dip and plunged into the portal. For Elsa, the world went dark as she lost consciousness in his embrace.

              ************************************************************

Elsa tiptoed across the damp, cool boards of the Jolly Roger, breathing deeply of the chilly night air. She made her way to the railing and leaned over to look at the moon reflecting off the undulating surface of the water. She took another deep breath, sighing as the familiar setting calmed her nerves. She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Maybe a tank top and shorts wasn’t the best ensemble for a midnight visit to the deck. It had felt wonderful to slip into _below_ deck, however, where the air was stuffy. Her father had made several modern changes to the Jolly Roger, but air conditioning wasn’t one of them. At least there were modern bathrooms and real beds. The galley also had a real stove and a refrigerator. The Jones kept the galley stocked with food and kept changes of clothes in all the dressers in case of emergencies. Like this one, for example.

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

Elsa jumped at the intrusion, then scowled at Roland’s tone of voice. “Getting some air,” she snapped.

Roland strolled closer, “You should be resting. Opening that portal took a lot out of you.”

“Yeah, well,” Elsa shrugged, brushing her hair out of her face, “Robin snores, so . . .”

Roland couldn’t help grinning at that. Then he looked her up and down, and his eyes darkened, “What are you wearing?”               “My pajamas!” Elsa answered defensively, “And what is your problem, anyway?”

“ _My_ problem?” Roland asked, both eyebrows raised.

“Yes, you! Ever since you showed up here, you’ve been acting . . . weird.”

“No. I haven’t.”

“Yes. You have.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you, Elsa! You need your rest, and you’ll catch cold dressed like that!”

“I’m not a little girl anymore, Roland!”

Roland apparently had continued striding towards her as they argued because now Elsa’s back was pressed against the railing and Roland was so close only about an inch separated them.

Roland swallowed hard, “I can see that, believe me.”

Elsa was suddenly aware of exactly what she was wearing: a spaghetti-strap tank top with no bra and a very tiny pair of pajama shorts. Her face flushed crimson at the realization. Roland’s eyes scanned her frame then locked on to hers. Her breath hitched when she saw his pupil’s blown wide. His eyes flickered again, this time to her lips. Was he going to kiss her? Roland seemed to sway a bit closer for a moment, but then he pushed away from the railing suddenly.

“And that’s exactly,” he said in a strangled voice, “why you need to go back below. _Now._ ”

Elsa shook her head and stalked towards him, “I don’t like being bossed around, first of all, and second, you aren’t making any sense!”

Roland searched her face intently for a moment, then gave a wry laugh, “You really have no idea, do you?”

“ _What_ Roland, explain it to me!”

Roland turned around, groaning in frustration. When he turned to face her again, his face was as stern as flint, “My father may have died when I was only four, but he taught me to live by a code. The merry men all live by it, Elsa. And I’ll be damned if I let myself break your heart, no matter how strong the temptation may be.”

With that, he stomped loudly towards the ladder that lead to the hold where he was bunking with Elsa’s brothers and uncle.

“Take the next watch if you insist on staying up,” he muttered without even looking at her. He slammed the hold’s cover behind him so loudly it made Elsa jump.

Elsa placed a hand to her pounding heart as she looked out to sea again. They would reach the shores of Camelot by dawn, and then who knew what dangers they would face? But for this moment, all Elsa wanted was her mother.

“Mom,” she said into the darkness, “I _really_ need to talk to you.”

Elsa pulled her father’s ring from where it hung inside her tank top. She clasped it in her fist and closed her eyes tightly. When she opened them, tears were pooled at the corners of her eyes, but a smile graced her face.

“We will find you, mom and dad. We will _always_ find you. Because that’s what this family does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I never intended to include the rescue mission (sorry?) But just so you know, everyone is okay, they all get rescued, and they successfully wipe the memories of Elsa's classmates. Oh, and they get an A on their project ;)  
> * As for "Rolsa" - I have one more story in this series that will bring that ship to its conclusion. Then this entire series and universe will arrive at its happy ending. I know, it's bittersweet.  
> * Thanks to all who have been on this crazy ride with me!

**Author's Note:**

> * I actually had the Jones family eating lots of pancakes back when I wrote The Last Battle, long before everyone's favorite pancake scene. That made the scene even more fun for me!


End file.
